


We Just Hit the Lotto

by Deadlihood



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lotto (Music Video), Alternate Universe- Dream Reality, Angst, Genre Typical Depictions of Violence, M/M, Mentions of sex work, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 20:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12896478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadlihood/pseuds/Deadlihood
Summary: Sehun wakes up in a different reality.





	We Just Hit the Lotto

Sehun tasted blood in his mouth.

He fumbled blindly for the cup of water he’d left on his nightstand to try to rinse the coppery taste out, but all he found was open air.

“Will you stop moving?” An exasperated voice said above him. He opened his eyes, squinting against the light.

“Yixing-hyung? What are you doing?” Sehun asked.

“Hyung?” Yixing laughed. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me that.” A roll of gauze appeared in Sehun’s line of sight before Yixing started wrapping it around Sehun’s head. “You must have taken a harder hit than we thought.”

“I got hit in the head?” Sehun was certain he wasn’t in the dorm, and he wasn’t anywhere else he recognized. It looked like he was on a hospital bed in some kind of old warehouse. “Where are we?”

Yixing paused. “You really got hit. Let me get the flashlight, I need to check your pupils.” No matter how many times Sehun asked where they were, Yixing went through the motions of checking Sehun’s pupils and testing his reflexes. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Junmyeon-hyung was still up, but I wanted to sleep so I went to bed.”

“What’s with the hyung all of a sudden? I didn’t think getting a concussion would make you of all people _respectful_.”

“I don’t understand. Where are we? Where’s Junmyeon-hyung?”

“Junmyeon is dealing with the people who hit you and shot Jongin.”

“Jongin got _shot_?” Sehun’s voice was steadily reaching a pitch that only dogs could hear.

“You really don’t remember _anything_ from tonight?” Yixing sat back in the chair. “Fuck, this isn’t good. I’ll be right back.” He left Sehun alone, the door swinging shut behind him.

 _Dreaming_ , Sehun thought, _I must be dreaming._ But he’d never had a dream where he felt this much pain. He tried to sit up and fought waves of nausea from the pounding in his head, and when he looked at his hands his fingernails were caked in blood that looked and smelled real.

Then he caught sight of his warped reflection in the medical pan that Yixing had been using, and his head spun even more. His hair hadn’t been black for nearly a year, and there it was, black and soft as his natural, unbleached hair.

The door swung open again, and Minseok, who had _definitely_ not been blond when he went to sleep, walked in with Yixing.

“Is that _glitter_ in your hair?” Sehun asked without really thinking.

Minseok approached slowly. “Sehun, Yixing says you don’t remember anything about tonight.”

“I don’t! I went to bed in the dorm and you were taking a shower and Jongdae-hyung and Junmyeon-hyung were watching a movie and I don’t know where I am.” Sehun was close to tears, between his confusion and the pain in his head.

“Do you know my name?”

“Of course. You’re Kim Minseok.”

“You know who we are, but not where you are?”

“Exactly. And he wouldn’t tell me anything.” Sehun pointed accusatorily in Yixing’s direction.

“Xing’s trying to take care of you.” Minseok sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “What’s your name?”

“Oh Sehun.”

“And what day is it?”

“The 24th of October.”

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

Sehun spluttered. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not gay.”

“Good thing you got me instead of Chanyeol.” Minseok muttered to Yixing. “Sehun, tonight Junmyeon sent you and Jongin to meet with an informant, but you were ambushed. You got clubbed pretty hard and they shot Jongin in the leg.”

“In his left leg?”

“You remember that?”

Sehun laughed. “Jongin hurt his ankle dancing in rehearsal a few days ago. I’m dreaming.”

Minseok and Yixing exchanged a worried glance. “Maybe you better get Chanyeol and Suho.” Minseok said. Sehun, assured that he was dreaming, practically flung himself off the bed and immediately regretted it. He went down hard, smashing his right shoulder into the ground. Based on the sharp splinter of pain that went up his arm, he’d landed on that arm more than once.

“Oh, fuck.” Sehun rolled onto his back, the room spinning above him.

“You’re not dreaming, Sehun. And something is wrong with your memory.” Minseok helped him sit up and heaved him into the chair. “Suho and Yeol will be here in a second, they’ll help clear this up.”

Sehun had to keep himself from laughing out loud at Junmyeon’s peach colored nest of hair, or Chanyeol’s orange mess. The concern in Chanyeol’s face was evident when he saw Sehun.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He said, approaching the way one might approach a wounded animal.

“Wait. I’m dating Chanyeol?” Sehun looked at Minseok for confirmation; he nodded.

“For three years.” Chanyeol knelt in front of Sehun. “Our anniversary is next week.” In terms of dream boyfriends, he definitely could have done worse than Chanyeol. Sweet, handsome Chanyeol who smacked Sehun on the butt too much to let Sehun murder the horrid crush he had on him. Obviously his subconscious was playing on that.

“Sehun, you’ve been with Chanyeol for three years, and a part of EXO for four. Do you remember how you joined?” Junmyeon said. Sehun shook his head. “You were a stripper and an escort. Jongin approached you to make some quick money by reporting on some of the powerful men who picked you up. You and Jongin became close friends and he brought you in to the organization.”

“You say organization like it’s a gang, hyung.” Sehun looked at Junmyeon’s face. “It’s a gang, isn’t it.”

“Yes, and you’ve never once called me hyung.” Junmyeon raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to be out of commission for a while, obviously. When you got hit tonight, it must have done something to your memory.”

“I _have_ to be dreaming. In real life, Junmyeon would never dye his hair that color, I’m definitely not dating Chanyeol, and we’re fucking _idols._ ” Sehun realized just how crazy he sounded as soon as he said the i-word.

“We’re _what_?” Chanyeol was already laughing. “Idols? The singing dancing girls on TV?”

“EXO is a boy group.” Sehun said lamely. “Junmyeon is our leader. I’m a dancer and a rapper.”

“The dancer I get, but babe, you can’t rap for shit.” Chanyeol squeezed his hand softly. “We’re going to take care of you, and we’ll get your memory back.” Sehun didn’t know what to say and just nodded.

“You’ll have to wake him up every hour to make sure he doesn’t get any brain damage. Although that ship may have sailed.” Yixing frowned at himself. “Well, just wake him up.”

“Will do.” Chanyeol saluted him and helped Sehun out of the room. It was a definitely an old warehouse, separated into different rooms with plywood boards. “We don’t normally sleep here but Junmyeon doesn’t want any of us leaving tonight.”

“Okay.” Sehun could feel the panic building up steadily inside him. None of this could be real, and yet it felt too vivid to not be. Chanyeol took him to a small, dingy bathroom to wash the blood off his hands. Sehun hadn’t had so many ear piercings when he’d gone to sleep, and he didn’t remember Chanyeol having that many either. What was going on?

It only got weirder when Chanyeol started to strip out of his clothes to get ready for bed. Not that Sehun hadn’t seen real-Chanyeol in various states of undress, but he’d never stared so hard at him, at the new scars and the tattoos that traced over his body.

“Do you need me to show you where your clothes are?” Chanyeol asked when he realized he was down to his boxers and Sehun hadn’t moved at all.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Sehun shyly started unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing; the silky material and striped pattern was something he would have chosen for himself, and he recognized the ring he was wearing. He didn’t recognize the tattoo on his forearm or the scar that shredded the skin from his left elbow to his shoulder. As he’d expected, the shoulder he’d landed on was bruised purple and blue.

“Here. These are yours.” Chanyeol handed him a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt. Sehun had never felt so uncomfortable taking his clothes off. Real-Chanyeol wouldn’t have been watching him so intently, even if he was injured.

Real-Chanyeol also wouldn’t have immediately spooned him, one long arm wrapped around his waist. It didn’t surprise Sehun that he was dreaming this in particular. He had fantasies about snuggling Chanyeol all the time. Of course his dream self was dating Chanyeol.

Of course dream-Chanyeol was kissing his neck and murmuring promises about taking care of him and making sure that he wasn’t seriously injured. Sehun tried not to moan when the kisses got closer to the sensitive spot on his neck. This was going to make seeing real-Chanyeol tomorrow very difficult.

“I should let you rest.” Chanyeol said finally, tucking his face into the crook of Sehun’s neck. “I’m going to have to wake you up pretty often.”

“That’s fine.” His real self would probably wake up long before dream-Chanyeol had to do anything.

“I love you Sehunnie.”

“I love you too.” Getting to say that to Chanyeol was pretty great, even if it was only in a dream. He settled himself into Chanyeol’s arms and let himself relax. Any moment now, he’d wake up in his own bed in the dorm. Junmyeon would be across the room in his tornado of a bed, Minseok would be making coffee, Jongin and Kyungsoo would be playing video games. Everything would be real again.

He felt something shaking his shoulder and he groaned, covering his head with arms. “Hyung, leave me alone.” He didn’t want to get up for rehearsal; he loved dancing but the hours they put in were ridiculous.

“I didn’t think you were into hyung and oppa stuff.” Chanyeol’s voice shocked Sehun all the way awake.

“Ah, fuck.” Sehun had definitely been expecting to find himself in the dorm room he shared with Junmyeon, not looking a sleepy, orange-haired dream version of his crush in the eye.

“No shame here, baby.” Chanyeol smiled, rubbing his thumb over Sehun’s lower lip. “How do you feel?”

“Not great.” His head did still hurt, but he was referring mostly to the fact that he was in dream world.

“I guess as long as you’re coherent when I wake you up you’ll be fine. Yixing didn’t tell me.” Chanyeol rolled over and fiddled with his phone. “We’re going to have to sleep in hour long increments.”

Sehun couldn’t help himself. His head was pounding and his shoulder felt like it was going to fall off, but he still wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s waist, stroking his hand over his flat stomach. He wouldn’t get another chance to touch him like this, even if it was just a dream.

“Baby, I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to have sex if you have a concussion.” Chanyeol’s voice rumbled under Sehun’s fingers.

“Not even a little?” Sehun wasn’t exactly sure _how_ they were going to have sex, but his dream world was giving details pretty well.

“The way we have sex? I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Chanyeol still turned over in his arms and kissed him, slow and deep.

“Fine.” Sehun let Chanyeol kiss his pout away. “I guess we’ll just lie here with our boners and not do anything.”

“I’m not going to do anything that might endanger you. If you couldn’t even remember I was your boyfriend earlier, I’m definitely not going to plow you and risk hurting your brain more.” Chanyeol slid his hand up the back of Sehun’s neck, gently cupping his head. Sehun got a sudden flash of gold glitter and neon lights, like a memory that didn’t belong. On a hunch, Sehun surged forward and kissed Chanyeol, moaning into his mouth.

_The gold glitter on his abdomen reflected in the neon lights as he undulated against the pole, his back pressed to the cold metal. He turned, bending at the waist and lifting himself up on his tiptoes to prop his ass up. There was a boy watching him, younger than most of the men that visited this club. His bleach blond hair was colored purple in the lights, his fingers tapping along to the beat on a half-empty glass._

“Sehun? Baby?” Chanyeol was shaking him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Sehun blinked to clear his eyes. That memory wasn’t his, and yet he remembered the texture of the glitter particles, the smell of sweat and cologne, the thump of the bass. Chanyeol seemed to let it go, slotting his knee between Sehun’s thighs and pulling him close to sleep again.

Sehun had the very distinct feeling, deep down in his gut, that something was very wrong.

The second time Chanyeol woke Sehun up, he got a very vivid memory of getting fucked by one of his clients and leaving with a stack of cash and a smile on his face. The third time, he remembered his first anniversary with Chanyeol and the trip to Macao that they’d taken to celebrate. The fourth, he remembered running, long legs pounding to catch up to Minseok and reach the van in time.

After that, Sehun pretended to go back to sleep and waited until Chanyeol had dozed off before he climbed out of bed. He knew which bag was his; it was the same one he used in the dorm, even though the laptop was different. It was equipped with a fingerprint scanner, so he didn’t have to try to think of a password, and then opened up an internet browser.

The light hurt his eyes and his head, but he still spent a solid hour researching, his stomach slowly sinking as he went. Then he typed in “EXO” and saw only results on exo-planets and exo-skeletons.

“Hunnie? Why are you up?” Chanyeol’s sleep-hoarse voice sounded across the small room.

“I needed to look something up, that’s all.” Sehun closed his laptop and climbed back into bed, seeking the familiar comfort of Chanyeol’s arms.

“Did you remember something?”

“I remember Macao.” He let affection color his voice. Those had been good memories he’d gotten back, relaxing on the beach with Chanyeol and going to shows at the glittering casinos and enjoying their penthouse suite.

“That was a good time.” Chanyeol held Sehun a little tighter. “I wish I could take you back for this anniversary, but things have been so crazy.”

“If I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.” Sehun was definitely enjoying getting to kiss Chanyeol, and getting to touch him.

“God, you’re adorable.”

“Yeollie, in the morning will you help me remember more things?”

“We need you to remember, Sehun. If you’re wandering around in a haze, we could lose you.”

“That, at least, I remember.” The sheer panic of that memory, of desperately running after Minseok, told him that things were definitely not going well in this reality.

Every time Sehun closed his eyes now, he wondered if he’d slip back through the dreamstate that had brought him here. The research hadn’t been terribly clear, but it seemed to make the most sense. He’d gone to sleep in his dorm, and while he’d been dreaming, he’d somehow moved through that dreamstate into another reality. This reality seemed to include the same cast of characters as the one he’d left, only playing different parts. Dimly, Sehun wondered where Luhan was, if he’d been part of their gang once and had left.

If he hadn’t slipped back through yet, Sehun didn’t think he was going to wake up in the dorm anytime soon. It was best to get some sleep and try to puzzle this out in the morning.

\--

In the morning, Chanyeol drove them to a fancy apartment building and they both showered and cleaned up for the day. Sehun’s wardrobe was considerably different than the one he’d left behind, but he didn’t exactly mind it. He changed into a brightly colored floral pattern shirt that he wouldn’t have been allowed to wear at home, and a pair of tight jeans with rips up the thighs. The boots he’d been wearing the night before were comfortable enough so he put them back on.

“You’re in a colorful mood this morning.” Chanyeol commented, selecting a pair of red silk pants and a black hoodie. Sehun thought he looked like some kind of grungy model, especially with the pants tucked into his tall boots.

“I liked the colors.” Sehun ran his hand over the jackets, memories sparking up his fingers like static electricity. He remembered the night before, when he and Jongin had been going to meet an informant. He remembered the sudden blow to the back of his head, and the way that Jongin had dragged him under a car to keep him out of the line of fire. He remembered Jongin calling for help with one hand while firing back with the other. “We were betrayed.”

“You remember?”

“Some things are coming back. Someone was waiting for us when we went last night.”

“Jongin told us that while Yixing was digging the bullet out of his leg. He won’t be walking for a while.”

“We’re lucky it was just the leg and not his head.” Sehun opened the top drawer on his side of the dresser and found several guns looking back at him. His fingers went immediately for the pearl-handled pistol. His memory told him it was American-made, semi-automatic, and that it was his favorite. “Do I need a gun?”

“If you think you can handle it and not shoot your ass off or something.” Chanyeol said. He was tucking a pistol of his own into the back of the red silk pants, adjusting the hoodie to lay over it.

“Safety’s on. I’ll be fine.” Sehun appreciated the gun knowledge he’d helpfully just remembered. He really would prefer not to shoot off a body part.

“All right. Xing just texted me where we’re meeting. We should head out.” Sehun pulled an army green jacket out of his closet and tucked his gun into the inside pocket. The weight of it against his ribs was comforting and foreign at the same time. Chanyeol let the conversation lapse in the car, his eyes flicking over to Sehun every now and then. Seoul looked different, less pretty than the one he’d left. This was a different world, and he was a different Oh Sehun. That much was clear to him, even through the haze of muddled memories.

Chanyeol drove straight into the loading bay of another warehouse, this one near the river, and parked near several other expensive looking cars. He took a quick count, then closed the loading bay door behind them.

“Everyone else is here. Best we aren’t surprised through that door.” Chanyeol explained, leading Sehun towards the door out of the bay. They entered what looked like a converted office, made much larger to fit a long table. Junmyeon sat at the head of the table, his peach hair less jarring today. To his right was Minseok, still coated in glitter. To his left was Yixing. Jongin, still bleach blond, was sitting in a wheelchair, his foot propped up on Jongdae’s knee. Jongdae looked tanner than he had in the dorm, his skin a richer tone of brown. Kyungsoo’s close cropped hair was brown and freckles dotted across his nose and his high cheekbones. Sehun guessed that they were allowed to go out in the sun in this world. Baekhyun had several piercings in his pretty face, chains connecting the one in the middle of his lower lip to his ear, a good deal of glitter in his own hair.

“Hunnie!” Jongin twisted in his wheelchair to look at him. “Are you okay?”

“Probably better than you.” Sehun gestured at the bandage around his leg.

“That’s what I get for getting you out of the line of fire.” Jongin snorted. “Should have left you in the gutter.”

“Can we get on with this?” Baekhyun asked, leaning lazily against Kyungsoo. “Some of us have work to do today.” Chanyeol led Sehun to the two empty seats next to Minseok and they settled in. Sehun poured himself some coffee before he realized what he was doing; apparently in this world he liked coffee.

“Someone we work with is a rat.” Junmyeon said as an opener. “Maybe the informant that Jongin and Sehun went to see. Until we find out who it is, we communicate only with each other. Be careful not to pick up a tail anywhere.”

“Do you think he’s gotten wind of what we’re doing?” Jongdae asked.

“It’s possible. We’ve been careful, but the old man’s not an idiot.” Junmyeon shrugged. “We’re close to getting everything in place. We can’t afford to fuck up now.”

“We have some slightly more pressing problems.” Yixing reminded him. “Jongin probably won’t be able to put weight on his leg for a few weeks, and Sehun’s memory is shot to hell.”

“He’s been remembering some things.” Chanyeol interrupted.

“It’s coming back in bits and pieces.” Sehun said when all eyes swiveled to rest on him. “I was able to recognize my gun, and I remembered what happened last night. Some things will need more refreshing.”

“Yeol, call Yifan and Tao and tell them they’ll be running El Dorado for a while.” Sehun’s heart jumped at Junmyeon mentioning them. Where was Luhan, if Yifan and Tao were around?

“What’s El Dorado?” Sehun asked instead.

“Your strip club. You bought it from your former employer when you became an official member. Yifan is your manager, Tao is a bartender.” Chanyeol murmured.

“Baekhyun, go to work as usual but take Soo or Dae with you. Minseok and I will watch the gambling hall tonight. Chanyeol, have you drawn up the plans for the security system yet?”

“I’m close to it. I was about to finish last night when we got that call.” Chanyeol replied.

“You were there. You came to get us.” Sehun blurted. He remembered seeing Chanyeol’s worried face as he peered under the car at Sehun.

“Well, he’s not totally brain dead.” Baekhyun’s smile was fond, even though his words seemed harsh. “I guess we won’t have to put you down like a lame horse.”

“I’d like to see you try, Pinhead.” Sehun shot back.

“He made a _Hellraiser_ reference, he’s not gone yet.” Jongdae’s laugh was as loud and exuberant as it had always been. “All right, Baek, I’ll ride with you today.”

“Be careful. Keep your guns close, and your phones.” Junmyeon warned, starting to get up from the table. “And for the love of God, no gallivanting today.”

“You go to one bar in the middle of the day and suddenly it’s _gallivanting_.” Jongdae sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine, Suho, we’ll be professional.”

“Good. Hunnie, I guess you’ll have to stay here today while you recover. Maybe you and Jongin can entertain each other.” Junmyeon said.

“Sehun doesn’t have boobs, so I doubt he’ll entertain me.” Jongin wheeled himself backwards, away from the table. Sehun followed slowly, reluctant to leave Chanyeol. The older man had become something of his anchor, partly because of how Sehun remembered him in his own reality. Handsome, painfully kind Chanyeol with big ears and an even bigger smile. Sehun had had a crush on him since before they debuted, and here he was Chanyeol’s boyfriend. And the love between them was something he had remembered early on. His heart swelled a little when he saw Chanyeol watching him, concern and affection obvious in his eyes.

“So, how bad is your memory?” Jongin asked when Sehun had managed to wheel him into one of the other offices.

“I can only remember scattered bits. I remember you coming to watch me perform.” Somehow Sehun wasn’t surprised that in this life he’d been making money off his body. He had the dance skills for it, and when he’d been an ulzzang he’d gotten his fair share of propositions. If the flashes he’d gotten were anything to go off of, he’d been a _very_ well-paid escort.

“Junmyeon sent me to see if you could be persuaded to work for us. You were what I’d call an independent contractor for about six months before I pulled you in.”

“Good thing you did.” Sehun’s hand fell to his abdomen, the ridge of a scar palpable under his shirt. “A john stabbed me.”

“You prodded a little too hard and he decided to stick you with something else.” Jongin snickered at his own joke. “But we were watching and Yixing stitched you up just fine.”

“I remember some of last night, but not enough. What happened?”

Jongin propped his foot up on Sehun’s leg, a familiar gesture. Sehun immediately started to rub at the stiff muscles of his calf, the way they did after dance practice all the time. “We went to meet Renjun. Do you remember him?”

_Renjun. Seventeen years old, drug mule and lookout. They’d gone to meet him about the location of a dropoff spot. Jongin had driven a nondescript car to the meeting place, an alley in the middle of Seoul, in the very middle of everything. Meet in secret in plain sight, Minseok had suggested. Renjun had shown up just after Jongin and Sehun. He and Jongin had been exchanging pleasantries when the crowbar had hit Sehun. He’d gone down hard, Jongin firing over him at whoever had attacked them. He’d used the cover fire to drag Sehun to the side of the car and shove him under it._

“Ow.” Sehun probed the back of his head. “Fucking crowbar.”

“Yeah, you went down like a bag of bricks. Renjun disappeared, I got shot in the leg, Chanyeol and Minseok picked us up and brought us to the safehouse to get patched up.”

“Is Renjun the one who ratted us out?”

“I doubt it. Suho’s considering him as an option but Renjun’s a good kid, and he respects Yixing. I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

“I don’t think so either.” Sehun leaned back in his chair, gesturing for Jongin to give him his other leg. With a wince, Jongin lifted his other leg into Sehun’s lap. He started at the ankle, careful to stay away from the bandages. “Where do we go from here?”

“Until we find out what’s going on, we’re working in teams of two and staying close. You and I stay on the sidelines until we’re well enough.”

“I can be well enough if I could just _remember_.” Sehun frowned, working on breaking up a particularly tight knot.

“Yifan and Tao will keep your club running until you come back, and they’re capable of taking care of themselves. Right now you need to get your shit together, not just so we can keep our business going but so Yeol doesn’t lose his mind.”

“He woke me up every fucking hour last night.”

“If Xing told him it would have helped you, he would have slept hanging upside down by his balls.”

“That’s—ouch.” Sehun shook his head. “So. El Dorado is my place?”

Through the course of the day, as Sehun and Jongin talked it out, he began to remember more about his life. How Luhan had once been a part of EXO and disappeared, presumed dead. How Yixing had been devastated by his best friend’s loss, held together only by his partners. Sehun wasn’t that surprised to hear that Minseok, Junmyeon, and Yixing were all together. It also didn’t really surprise him that Kyungsoo and Jongdae were expert hitmen and that’s why Baekhyun had been instructed to take one of them with him to his office.

Junmyeon came in after noon to check on them. Yixing took Jongin to the medical room to change his dressing, leaving Sehun with Junmyeon.

“Still think we’re idols?” Junmyeon asked, sitting across from Sehun.

Sehun snorted. “No, I have a pretty good handle on how things work here. The crowbar to the head probably made me a little screwy.”

“We need you at full caliber, Sehun. The old man is getting suspicious and no one can find Renjun. That means we’re either fucked or he’s holed up somewhere. I’m hoping he’s holed up and not having his fingernails torn out somewhere.”

“The—the old man would really do that?” No one had mentioned this mysterious boss figure by name, and it was getting old.

“Lee Sooman would torture his own grandmother if he thought she had information on him.”

Sehun’s blood ran cold. _SM? Lee Sooman is the one we’re fighting?_ “Refresh my memory on him, I don’t have anything back yet.”

The more Sehun heard, the more he wanted to throw up. Junmyeon left to meet Minseok at the gambling hall, and Sehun wandered off through the warehouse. Most of it was broken up by plywood walls into smaller rooms and offices. He could see Chanyeol typing away in front of a massive set up of computers through the crack in one of the doors, but he didn’t stop to bother him.

Instead, he let his feet lead him to the east side of the warehouse, where a shooting range had been set up. Muscle memory helped Sehun check his gun, make sure there was a full clip and everything was in working condition.

Then he shot six bullets into the target’s heart, wanting to scream as each shot landed home. It wasn’t enough that his reality was shaped by SM, but this one was too. When he had emptied the gun, he set it aside and picked up one of the ones waiting at the range, firing clip after clip until his arms ached.

“Stressed out?” Chanyeol’s voice startled Sehun and the shot went wide, burying itself in the concrete wall.

“Don’t sneak up on someone with a gun in their hands.” Sehun admonished, flicking the safety on and setting it aside. Chanyeol held his arms open and Sehun practically dove in, wrapping his limbs as tightly as he could around him.

“It’s going to be fine, baby. We’re going to get your memory back and take care of business. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I’m not. Not if I’m with you.” Sehun felt less like a little boat lost at sea when he was holding onto Chanyeol. Everything seemed a little less scary, a little less final. This was a different place, but he could always count on Chanyeol to take the edge off.

Even if that meant just sitting in the corner of Chanyeol’s office while he worked on the security system for Junmyeon, and Sehun tapped away on his laptop.

Based on the website for El Dorado, it was a very high-class establishment. Yifan was listed as the owner of the club, probably to avoid Sehun’s name being tied to it if there was some kind of police sting. Male and female dancers performed at the club, mostly masked to create an air of mystery, although some went without.

Sehun choked on a sip of water when he found a picture of himself on the website, wearing a black lace mask and a scrap of gold fabric over his dick. He was blond, covered in glitter, and doing something with his leg that Sehun was pretty sure should have dislocated his hip.

“Everything okay?” Chanyeol asked, looking over at Sehun’s bright red face.

“I was looking up the club and I…”

“Ah, that glamour shot of you is still up isn’t it?” Chanyeol was peeking over the edge of the laptop before Sehun could stop him. “Yep, that’s the one I thought it was.”

“I want to die just looking at this.”

“The glitter is a little gauche, but I think you look hot.”

“Yeol I’m airing out my taint for the world in this!”

“You stopped dancing and escorting after that guy shanked you. It’s been five years since you aired your taint for anyone but me.”

“Way to make me feel better, Chanyeol.” Sehun closed the browser, wishing he could get rid of the imprint of the image on his eyelids.

“Baby, you haven’t ever been embarrassed about what you used to do. You were proud of it before.”

That was probably because Sehun hadn’t had the memories of being an idol and the level of propriety he had to hold to. If that picture had appeared in his reality, he couldn’t even begin to think of what the consequences would be. “Maybe I’m not so proud of it now.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were working to support yourself and that’s how you did it.”

“I guess.” He hadn’t minded the idea of it in the abstract, but seeing visual proof of his former occupation was a little weird. He’d taken off his clothes for money, had fucked men for money. And now he was in a criminal organization bent on taking down their corrupt boss. “I have a headache.”

“I can have Kyungsoo take you home if you want, he should still be around.”  

“That might be a good idea.”

Chanyeol kissed his forehead gently. “I’ll be done with this system soon. I’ll pick up food from your favorite place on the way home, and we’ll just relax tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” Sehun let Kyungsoo bundle him into a car to go home, a little numb to the world. Kyungsoo let the radio play and didn’t try to force any conversation. That was the way he’d always been, not pushy but guiding, waiting until Sehun or Jongin or one of the others was ready to talk before he gave them advice.

It wasn’t until they pulled up at Sehun’s apartment building that Kyungsoo spoke. “I heard you in the shooting range earlier. Did you reload your gun?”

“No. It’s empty.” Sehun handed it over and watched Kyungsoo reload it with expert hands.

“You should be safe up there. I’ll keep watch until Yeol gets home, just in case.”

“Thanks, Soo.”

“No problem, Hunnie. I imagine a crowbar to the head would spin me out pretty badly too.” Kyungsoo chucked him under the chin affectionately. “I’ll be down here if you need me.”

Sehun at least knew which apartment was his and didn’t have any trouble getting in. He threw the deadbolt behind him, just in case, and stripped down for a bath in the gleaming tub. It must have been big enough for Chanyeol and him to fit in at the same time. A quick perusal of their bath stuff told him that in this reality he still liked almond bath oil. He poured a healthy amount into the steaming water and settled in, ignoring the way his skin prickled at the heat.

Today had been a little too much. Finding out that Luhan was dead, that there was an empty grave for him in Beijing, that had broken him almost as much as hearing what cruelties he and his friends had suffered at SM’s hands. Sehun finally let himself cry for Luhan. It was one thing to have seen Luhan’s health deteriorate before he left EXO but know he was still doing well in China, and a completely different thing to know that he was dead.

He cried until the water went cold and then wrapped himself in one of the bathrobes. His face was swollen and red, the white bandage around his head making it more obvious. Distantly, Sehun wondered if he went to sleep he would wake up back in the dorm, where this would all be some half-forgotten nightmare. But if he hadn’t slipped back yet, Sehun doubted it would happen anytime soon.

So he spread out on the bed in a pair of sweatpants, face down in the pillows, and let himself doze. His headache was more pronounced now, thanks to his cry fest, and he wished the memory foam mattress would just envelop him.

He hadn’t heard the door open, so when he felt a hand on his bare back, he reacted on instinct. His body surged up and twisted, grabbing the hand and yanking it to twist it behind the attacker’s back, his elbow coming up to press against the person’s throat.

“I see you remember some things.” Chanyeol wheezed out. Sehun immediately let him go.

“Sorry, I panicked.” Sehun sat back on his heels, watching Chanyeol shake his hand out in pain.

“I thought you were asleep, otherwise I would have made more noise.” Chanyeol rubbed his thumb against Sehun’s cheek. “Were you crying?”

“Today’s been…overwhelming.”

“I’m sure it has been, baby.” Chanyeol sat on the bed and gestured for Sehun to climb into his lap.

“I didn’t remember about Luhan.” Sehun’s voice was muffled by Chanyeol’s hoodie. “Jongin had to tell me.”

“I’m so sorry baby. That was a terrible time, but especially for you and Xing.”

“There’s too much I don’t know. I’m wandering around half-aware and I have to keep being informed about things I should already know.”

“Yixing thinks it’s probably just short term memory loss from the hit you took. It should come back as your head starts to heal.”

“But how long will that take?”

“As long as it needs to. El Dorado can run without you, and we’re going to keep you safe until you can fend for yourself.” Chanyeol squeezed him a little tighter. “I brought takeout. Are you hungry?”

It was familiar to sit down and eat with Chanyeol, to bicker over which piece of the short ribs they wanted. After they cleaned up from dinner, they relocated to the couch where Sehun spread out flat over Chanyeol like an oversized blanket. He didn’t seem to mind and kept sneaking a hand down to squeeze Sehun’s ass, even as his hips shifted to grind against him.

“Okay, if you’re going to keep doing that, you’re going to have to fuck me.” Sehun said finally.

“Hunnie…” Chanyeol’s voice was warning, even though Sehun could feel that he was hard, too.

“Either you do it or I’m locking you out of the bedroom and doing it myself.”

“You couldn’t remember being my boyfriend but you remember that you have a toybox?” Chanyeol sat up, holding Sehun upright on his lap.

“Some things have come back.” Sehun grinned, a slow predatory grin. “I’ll dance for you.”

Chanyeol groaned low in his throat. “Please don’t do that. The last time you danced for me we broke a table.”

“Worth it.”

“I don’t want to risk hurting your head anymore, Sehun.”

“You’re remarkably calm for someone who is that hard.” Sehun sighed dramatically, climbing off Chanyeol’s lap. “I suppose I’ll just do it myself.” He’d only taken two steps away before Chanyeol snagged him by the wrist and practically dragged him towards their bed.

It occurred to Sehun, as he was bouncing desperately in Chanyeol’s lap, that he’d been acting completely unlike himself. Well, the himself that he had known as Sehun the idol. Sehun who had a favorite gun would definitely have sweet-talked his boyfriend into fucking him. The next thrust hit his prostate dead-on and Sehun stopped thinking all together, focusing instead on the pleasure whiting out his vision.

Sehun was splayed flat out on his back when his brain finally came back online. Chanyeol was lying between his legs, languidly pressing kisses to Sehun’s stomach. Somewhere in the interim he’d mopped up the mess they’d made of Sehun’s body, which Sehun was grateful for.

“Tired, baby?” Chanyeol asked, kissing the scar on Sehun’s stomach.

“Just a little.” Sehun stretched, letting out a little sigh when he felt his spine pop. “Oh, that was good though. Reminds me of that time we fucked in my office at El Dorado.”

“You remember?”

“I remember a lot about you, Yeollie.” Sehun looked down his body at Chanyeol, running his fingers through his orange tufts of hair. “I remember the first time you kissed me.”

“I didn’t think you being that vicious would be so hot.” Chanyeol admitted, rubbing his cheek against Sehun’s tummy.

_Neon lights lit the alleyway in shades of green and orange. Sehun had emptied an entire clip into the person he’d been sent to kill; the first shot had been the killing blow. The rest had been a message. Chanyeol had watched him do it, had seen the brutal gleam in his eyes, and had pressed Sehun up against the brick wall as soon as he put the gun away. They kissed furiously until Chanyeol’s head cleared enough to think that making out in an alley with a dead body was a bad idea and he led them away._

“I am vicious, aren’t I?”

“You and Dae.” Chanyeol shook his head. “If you hadn’t been adamant on staying with El Dorado, I think Kyungsoo would have started training you as an assassin.”

“Minseok’s no angel either.”

“None of us are. It’s how you survive in this life.”

“Would you trade it for something else?”

“You mean would I try to start over in a different occupation?” Chanyeol thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. We make enough doing this that we can do whatever we want outside of it. And people like Baekhyun or Jongin, who grew up on the streets, they don’t know any life but this.”

Sehun pulled Chanyeol up by his freckled shoulders to lie next to him. “What if I said I wanted to move to Jeju and raise horses?”

“Junmyeon would let us go. It’s the old man we have to worry about.”

“Has anyone found Renjun yet?”

“No, but my systems are combing for him. If he shows up on a security camera, it’ll ping me. And I’m sure Kyungsoo and Yixing are out looking for him.”

“I don’t think he ratted us out. I think it’s someone else.” Sehun stretched and yawned, curling into Chanyeol’s side.

“You should get some rest, baby. I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Understatement.” Sehun muttered as he felt the covers being pulled up around his bare shoulders.

“You sleep. I’m going to check my systems and come right back.”

Sehun was deeply asleep before Chanyeol had even booted up his computer. Chanyeol moved his set up into the living room, dimming the lights so it wouldn’t bother his sleeping boyfriend through the crack in the door.

\--

In the morning Sehun disassembled and reassembled a gun in thirty seconds under Jongdae’s watchful eye.

“Well, you probably won’t accidentally blow anything up.” Jongdae said, kicking his feet up on the table. “We just need to get you up to date on people you shouldn’t shoot.” The older man shoved a stack of files a foot thick over to Sehun. “Have fun, Hunnie.”

Sehun felt a headache forming between his eyes as he went through file after file. Each gang that SM controlled was made up of familiar faces, from Yunho all the way to Yerim. Most of them had been designated as friendlies, but Sehun had a feeling he should be on his guard anyway. With what they were planning, he didn’t want to end up on the wrong end of a bullet because of his affection for these people in the other reality.

It was strange how quickly his idol life had become “the other reality.” His memories from this one were coming back, superseding choreographies and lyrics and party lines. He was starting to feel at home here, which made Yixing very happy. The medic had been worried that Sehun’s brain had been permanently damaged and had even started making inquiries about where he could take Sehun to have a CAT scan done.

Yixing had been a civilian doctor once, working at a small clinic in a poor part of Seoul. Jongin and Baekhyun had been some of his regular clients, trading their protection for medical treatment. The day Baekhyun had brought Junmyeon in with a bullet in his shoulder was the beginning of the end for Yixing’s civilian practice. Over the next weeks and months, he’d fallen for Junmyeon and Minseok in turn, and joined their gang to keep them closer.

There was a commotion in the loading bay and they heard Minseok calling for Yixing. Jongdae and Sehun hurried into the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Jongdae asked Junmyeon, who was coming up the gangway.

“We found Renjun.” Junmyeon gestured at the small figure curled in Minseok’s arms.

“Where was he?” Jongdae moved aside to let Minseok through, and they disappeared into the medical room.

“Taeyong lost contact with him too and told us about an old safe house he might be hiding in.” Junmyeon ran his hand through his hair. “Kid’s got a bullet in his arm and he’s been hiding in a shack for two days.”

“Yixing will take care of him.” Sehun assured him. “He’ll be fine.”

“What did Taeyong have to say about him disappearing like that?” Jongdae quirked an eyebrow.

“Taeyong thinks he got scared and hid when Sehun and Jongin got jumped. Didn’t want to be on the wrong side either way, I think. He did give me the information we needed before he passed out.”

“We know where it is?” Jongdae’s eyes lit up with glee.

“Yes. I sent Soo to check it out. We move on it tonight.”

“Even me?” Sehun asked. Junmyeon glanced at Jongdae.

Jongdae shrugged. “He’s got as good a shot as ever. It’ll be better to go in with the seven of us than just six.”

“Try not to get clubbed again,” was all Junmyeon said before heading for the medical room.

Sehun was antsy all day waiting, wishing he could get up and _do something_ before they moved out that night. His wishes were granted, in the wrong way, when Jongdae hauled him in to help load Chanyeol’s computers into a van.

“We’re vacating this place, and we need all this shit elsewhere.” Jongdae said, shoving a flatbed cart towards Sehun. “Don’t drop anything.”

Thankfully, Chanyeol lashed everything down carefully before letting Sehun wheel it to the loading bay, and helped pack everything in safely.

“I’ll be back once I’ve got the new setup done.” Chanyeol promised, giving Sehun a quick kiss. “Stick with Jongdae.”

“Do I have a choice?” Sehun grumbled.

“Don’t pout. It’ll give you wrinkles.” Jongdae pointed out. “Get going Yeol, we’re on a tight schedule today.” So off Chanyeol went. Sehun returned to his files for a while until Kyungsoo came back and had him help pull guns and ammunition for that night’s activities.

“Have we been moving out of here for a while?” Sehun asked.

“For the past week or so we’ve been moving things to the new place. After tonight we don’t want to be anywhere we can be found easily.” Kyungsoo caught the look of confusion on Sehun’s face. “I thought Junmyeon brought you up to speed on what was going on?”

“He didn’t tell me what information I had gone to get, or what we’re doing tonight. I think he was more focused on giving me the background.”

“The old man keeps a warehouse with stashes of cash. Renjun happened to overhear where it was, and we sent you and Jongin to get it because he seems less spooked by you two. When Minseok and Junmyeon found him he gave them the address and now we’re moving on the warehouse.”

“He’ll see it as an act of war.”

“Exactly. Which is why we need to get our shit out of here and move to our safehouse. Our apartments are off the grid for the most part but they’ll be found quickly enough. We’ll have a small window of opportunity to get any last-minute things and then we’ll be on lockdown.”

“Why not go across the river to Incheon? Wouldn’t we be farther out of reach?”

“Farther out of reach, yes, but less in tune with the city. We’ll also be farther away from our allies.”

Sehun rubbed his forehead. “God, I wish I could remember.”

“You remember Incheon. That’s a good sign that things are coming back.” Kyungsoo passed him a few belts with specially designed pockets to hold ammunition cartridges. “Let’s start filling these. Baekhyun will be back any minute and he’s always a pain in the ass about the ammunition.”

Kyungsoo was right; as soon as Baekhyun showed up, he started complaining about the way they’d packed the magazines. He only shut up when Chanyeol came back and made him help start loading the guns into the van.

By ten pm, they’d taken everything of importance out of the warehouse and moved it to their new location. Yixing would be taking Renjun and Jongin directly to the safehouse, while the others went to take down the cash drop. Sehun felt oddly at ease with the weight of the belt around his hips, and the two holstered guns strapped to his thighs. Chanyeol had produced a pair of throwing knives that Sehun immediately recognized as his own, and slipped them into his boots. Everyone was packing, but Junmyeon the most out of them. In addition to the guns and extra ammunition, he was carrying a bat studded through with bolts. Sehun remembered that the bat was Junmyeon’s signature weapon and that it had made him infamous in the underworld.

“We all know what we’re going to do, and how irreversible this is.” Junmyeon said, leaning on the handle of his bat. “Anyone want to put it to a last minute vote?” His request was met with nothing but silence. “Glad to hear it. Once we’re in, make it quick and clean. We don’t want to spend any more time than necessary in there.”

“That means you, Jongdae and Sehun.” Minseok broke in, a smile curling the edges of his cat eyes up.

“You ruin all my fun, Minseokkie.” Jongdae drawled.

“I’ll ride with Yeol and Sehun. Baek, Soo, and Dae will go with Minseok.” Junmyeon glanced at Yixing. “You’ll be all right getting Jongin and Renjun in?”

“I’m in a wheelchair, not unconscious. I can certainly _roll_ myself in.” Jongin pointed out. “Worst comes to worst I’ll fucking hop.”

“We’ll be fine. The rest of you, try not to come back with any more bullet wounds.” Yixing’s words were meant for the whole group, but he was only looking at Minseok and Junmyeon.

“We’ll be fine.” Minseok assured him, before stepping closer to kiss Yixing. Junmyeon followed suit, and then Yixing loaded Renjun and Jongin into the car and drove away.

“I’ll find you in the middle.” Junmyeon said softly to Minseok, pressing a set of keys into his palm.

“I’ll be the one with the glitter in my hair.” Minseok grinned and kissed the corner of Junmyeon’s mouth, making it quirk up in a smile.

Sehun clambered into the back of the SUV, letting Junmyeon take the front with Chanyeol. The neon lights cast interesting shadows as they drove through the streets. Sehun knew, rationally, he should have been nervous. Three days ago he’d been monitoring his calorie intake and practicing choreographies; now he was going to rob a crime lord’s warehouse. Something about it felt normal, familiar. The life of an idol seemed to grow more and more distant the longer he stayed. And something about that didn’t scare him much.

They stopped in the middle of an industrial area, the car shuddering as Chanyeol put it in park.

“Will it take long?” Junmyeon asked, watching as Chanyeol opened a laptop.

“Maybe if I hadn’t built the security systems.” Chanyeol chuckled, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “They’ll be down in thirty seconds.”

Junmyeon tapped out a quick text message. “Sehun, stay close to me.”

“Don’t worry about me, Suho.” Sehun climbed out of the SUV after them, staying low and close to the other two. The gate had an electronic keypad on it, rendered useless by Chanyeol’s disabling of the security systems. Junmyeon planted one boot on the gate and shoved it open.

They were halfway across the yard when Jongdae popped up next to them. He was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone, a maniacal look on his face.

“Nice of you to show up.” Jongdae whispered, ushering them towards the side of the building. “Soo and I have been sweeping the yard. I think Min and Baek are inside are already.”

“Good. Let’s get a move on.” Junmyeon opened the warehouse door and ducked inside.

The sound of gunfire started almost as soon as they came in. Baekhyun was twirling like a dancer, evading the baton that a guard was trying to club him with. Jongdae flicked his fingers lazily, a metallic blur shooting from his hand. A knife buried itself in the guard’s back.

It was muscle memory more than conscious thought that propelled Sehun through the warehouse. His hands were steady and his aim was true. He didn’t think before squeezing the trigger and putting a bullet in a guard who was trying to sneak up on Minseok.

Junmyeon yelled in pain and swung his bat at a guard’s head, knocking him to the floor with a dull thud. One hand came to clutch at his side.

“Are you all right?” Minseok called.

“Just a knick. Keep moving!”

They moved down the hallway towards the center of the warehouse, an unstoppable force when they were shoulder to shoulder. There were more guards in the middle, but the space was so limited Sehun didn’t dare use his gun. He wouldn’t risk accidentally shooting one of his own.

So he dipped and twirled, used his dancer’s flexibility to avoid the majority of the blows. One landed on his bruised shoulder and sent sparks of pain down the limb, making him drop the knife in his right hand. The eyes of the guard standing over him gleamed with triumph. The baton came down almost in slow motion as Sehun scrabbled for his gun. The shot through the foot was messy and wet, but it worked. The blow landed across his shoulder blades instead of the back of his skull, and soon he was back up with both knives.

The warehouse was littered with bodies, some still alive and others staring blankly at the ceiling. Sehun and his friends were covered in blood and bruises, but still standing.

“Yeol, how long do we have?” Minseok asked.

“If Kyungsoo and Jongdae planted those dampeners, they won’t know anything has happened for a while. I’d rather not wait around here though.” Chanyeol replied. He moved to Sehun’s side, hands running over him as if to check for injuries.

“I’m okay. Just a little bruised.” Sehun kissed him hard on the mouth and tasted blood on his tongue from Chanyeol’s split lip.

“Can that wait until we’re done here?” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at them. Sehun purposefully lapped up some of the blood with his tongue, maintaining eye contact with Baekhyun the whole time.

“Grab a crate and start dumping.” Junmyeon ordered, kicking over the first crate and spilling money out onto the concrete floor. Between the seven of them, they quickly built a mountain of money. Kyungsoo produced a video camera from inside his jacket pocket. They stood in silence as Junmyeon poured gasoline on the pile. He glanced back at the camera briefly, a wad of cash in his hand. He lit it and tossed it onto the pile, where the money quickly ignited. He made one brief, expressive gesture at the camera, and then walked away. Kyungsoo shut off the camera and backed away from the growing blaze.

“Is that going to take down the building?” Sehun asked as Chanyeol hurried him away from the fire.

“I don’t know, and we’re not sticking around to find out.” Chanyeol hustled him and Junmyeon to their SUV, taking off before Sehun even had a chance to put a seatbelt on. He drove over the speed limit the whole way across the city, only slowing down when they reached the safehouse.

Nondescript warehouses seemed to be in vogue for the criminally minded, if only because they were large and no one paid much attention to them. Chanyeol parked in the loading bay, where Yixing was already pacing back and forth.

“Worst injuries, come with me.” Yixing barked. “Anyone with a cut or a bruise, make one of the others take care of it.”

“Junmyeon took a hit.” Minseok ignored Junmyeon’s glare and just shoved him towards Yixing. “See to him first.”

“Of course it was you.” Yixing muttered something under his breath in Mandarin, half-dragging Junmyeon to the infirmary. Minseok went with them, leaving the rest of the them to check each other over for bad injuries. Most of the injuries were fairly minor, although Baekhyun would need to be checked for cracked ribs. Sehun dabbed at the blood on Chanyeol’s lip gently, put a small bandage on the cut on his nose.

“You don’t look too bad.” Chanyeol said, eyes almost crossing to see what Sehun was doing.

“I’m fast and good at dodging things. Motherfucker hit my shoulder though.” Sehun shouldn’t have been surprised that Chanyeol immediately tried getting under his shirt to check on the bruise.

“That looks nasty.” Baekhyun commented, holding his arms out so Kyungsoo could bandage his ribs.

“It hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live.” Sehun shrugged, trying not wince when it pulled on the bruised flesh. “Anyone else dying?”

“Nope. Looks like Suho was the only one who got it bad.” Jongdae was lying on the hood of the SUV like a car show girl, one knee up and smoking a cigarette.

“I think I have blood in my hair.” Baekhyun grumbled, touching the dark strands. “Soo, will you help me wash this out?”

“What do I look like, your wife?” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Fine, you big baby.”

Sehun and Chanyeol mopped themselves up with wet wipes and headed for the room Sehun had slept in the first night. He felt much more at home there now, now that he knew where he was and what was going on. He stuck his head under the tap to clear the layer of grime off his face and rinse out his hair, in case he was as bloody as Baekhyun.

“Why am I so horny?” Sehun mused out loud as he walked back to Chanyeol with water dripping down his bare chest.

“You’ve always been like this. Getting in fights turns you on. I think it’s the adrenaline or something.” Chanyeol had an ice pack sitting on his shoulders, the blooming bruises like macabre flowers on his skin. “Unfortunately, I don’t think either of us are in condition to have sex right now.”

“Probably not.” Sehun dropped into bed, careful to avoid his bad shoulder. “Let’s save the fucking for when we aren’t falling apart.”

“You’re really starting to remember things, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you in the warehouse. You’re not…timid anymore. You’re as self-assured as you ever were.”

“I know my gun, and I know how to stay alive. For now, that’s all I need.” Sehun pressed a kiss to the globe of Chanyeol’s shoulder. “That, and you.”

“Let’s try to rest, baby. Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day and more than one person is probably going to try to kill us.”

“Just another day in EXO.” Sehun snorted, pulling the covers over them.

“Aren’t you glad you’re here?”

“Hey, I’m not getting shanked by johns and I’m in love with you. That’s pretty good.”

“I love you too, Sehun.” Chanyeol cuddled him closer, careful to keep the icepack leaning on his back. Sehun was starting to come down from the adrenaline and getting exhausted quickly.

He should have been upset that he’d killed people tonight. Without a second thought, he’d killed people. But he’d protected himself, protected his friends, and helped accomplish a mission that was hopefully going to topple SM from his bloody throne. If Sehun couldn’t do it in his idol life, he was definitely going to use this life to make him pay.  

\--

They went in three man teams to pick up whatever they might need from their apartments, cycling so that three of them were always at the safehouse.

“We made the news,” Minseok said, pointing at the TV he’d been watching on low volume. Sehun swiveled from where he’d been rubbing salve into his shoulder to see the burning warehouse on the screen.

“Did the building come down?” He asked.

“Looks like the middle of it collapsed, which means the old man is missing quite a bit of his money.” Minseok snickered. “He must be losing his mind.”

“I don’t know if you should be laughing about that, Min.” Baekhyun, who definitely had cracked ribs, piped up. “By now he’ll be getting the video of Junmyeon and he’ll tear Seoul apart looking for us.”

“You act like Suho doesn’t know what he’s doing.” The edge in Minseok’s voice was a warning to not question his partner.

“Suho knows what he’s doing, but we may not be fast enough to get it done.” Baekhyun stood up, wincing when he moved. “Jongin’s in a wheelchair. I’m not going to be as fast or agile as I usually am, and neither is Junmyeon. Sehun’s just getting his memory back. We’re not exactly at full strength.”

“And we’re not exactly alone.” Minseok turned back to the TV, lips pursed. Sehun shrugged his shirt back onto his shoulders, leaving the oversized flannel hanging open as he headed for where he’d left his phone.

If his memories, and Baekhyun’s words, were accurate, he needed to get El Dorado cleared out as fast as he could. He tapped his foot impatiently as the phone rang once, twice.

“Sehun? How are you feeling?” Yifan said when he finally picked up.

“Better. The head injury is clearing up.” Sehun cleared his throat. “Listen, you and Tao need to clear the club as fast as you can. The files, the money, everything you can move.”

The line was silent. “Something went down.”

“Yes. And you and Tao are sitting ducks in that club.”

Yifan shouted something in Mandarin to Tao. “We’ll take care of it. Anywhere in particular you want us to stick the stuff?”

Sehun thought for a moment. “There’s a place in Incheon. I’ll call back when I get the address. But I don’t want you or any of the dancers to be around in case El Dorado gets taken down. You know where the guns are?”

“Like Tao and I don’t carry.” Yifan snorted. “We’ll watch our asses and get the stuff out.”

“All right, duizhang.” The term of endearment slipped out before Sehun could really think about it.

“Duizhang?”

“You’re the captain of El Dorado.” Sehun explained lamely.

“Whatever. Call me back when you’ve got that address.” The line went dead and Sehun wandered back to where the others were waiting.

“Why are you sending things to Incheon?” Minseok asked as soon as Sehun explained what he needed.

“Those files have addresses of other people we’re in contact with. And Tao and Yifan are important to me. The old man would string their asses up as soon as he got his hands on them.” Sehun leveled his gaze at Minseok. “Besides. They’re Chinese, and we all know how he feels about them.”

A muscle in Minseok’s jaw twitched. “It’s on Gyeongin-ro. Building number is 490.”

“Thanks.” Sehun turned on his heel and left the room again. Yifan confirmed the address and told him not to worry. Sehun was sure he wouldn’t relax until he knew that they were safely in Incheon.

El Dorado might have been _his_ place, might have been _his_ business, the place where he started and the business he had grown, but that meant nothing to him in comparison to Yifan and Tao. He’d already had to suffer the loss of one of his brothers. He didn’t intend to lose them too.

Chanyeol came back with two duffel bags worth of computer equipment, weaponry, and clothes for him and Sehun. His lip was still swollen from the night before, but he didn’t look too worse for wear.

“I had them evacuate El Dorado.” Sehun said as he helped put their things away in their room.

“That was a good move. He’ll go after the legitimate businesses first, if only because they’re easier to find. El Dorado and Baekhyun’s office will have unfortunate accidents tonight, I bet.”

“Does Baek have his ledger?” Baekhyun’s information brokerage office would be a prime target, especially since many of the people who hired him were their friends and allies.

“He brought it back the last time he went to work. The gambling hall will go next, but we’ve drawn as much money as we can out of every sector to keep us from losing too much.”

“Do you really think we can pull this off?”

Chanyeol sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “His power’s been tentative for years. Ever since Jaejoong and Junso and Yoochun had the balls to walk out on him and leave the life, he’s been losing his grip. That’s why he relied on us and SHINee and the girls to keep his empire afloat. And if we all turn on him—”

“Then we can unbalance him.” Sehun’s mouth flattened into a line. “We’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Junmyeon and Minseok and Yixing wouldn’t risk anything without knowing we had support and a safety net.” Chanyeol gestured for Sehun to come closer and pulled him down into his lap. “We’re going to be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Sehun tucked his head into the crook of Chanyeol’s shoulder. “If something happened to you…”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I promise you, we’re going to pull this off and get the crushing weight off of us. And then we can go to Jeju for three months and ride horses if that’s what you want. Or visit Bangkok again. Take that anniversary trip to Macao.”

“I’m worried about the girls.”

“Taeyeon, Qian, and Joohyun would all kick your ass for saying that.”

“It’s not that I don’t think they can take care of themselves, I know they can. I just think he’ll be more brutal with them than he is with us. And with Taeyong and his boys, now that I think about it.”

“They’ve been preparing for this almost as long as we have. Taeyeon has no doubt already moved them to Guri, Qian to Uijeongbu, and Joohyun to Bucheon. They’re staying out of the line of fire until its time. Taeyong and those boys are street rats, they’re good at disappearing.” Chanyeol kissed his forehead gently. “We’re all taking care of ourselves. When it’s time to come together, we’ll rise like an unstoppable wave.”

Sehun recognized his panic, a little late, as a reflection of his powerlessness in his old life. He could never have picked up and moved to a different city in his old life. He had seen his fellow idols, male and female, horribly mistreated, their hands bound by their contracts. It tasted like poetic justice and gasoline to think that he had been a part of unbalancing SM, the first step in claiming their freedom.

Sehun didn’t relax until Tao called from Incheon and let him know they’d made it safely to the safe house. Not that Sehun had been that worried about them; Yifan had grown up in the Chinese mafia and had practically raised Tao as his protégé. Both of them were more than capable of handling themselves in a fight. But these were his friends, no, his family.

Chanyeol was busy monitoring his security systems and Sehun was starting to get antsy. The waiting was the worst part. Junmyeon, Yixing, and Minseok had been holed up all afternoon to plot out their next move, and no one was allowed to leave. There was only so long Sehun could watch YouTube videos before he got fidgety.

“Jongin, I’ve told you ten times to sit back down. I’m not going to fight you,” Kyungsoo’s voice floated over one of the plywood dividers. Sehun poked his head around and saw Kyungsoo, arms crossed over his bare, sweaty chest, glaring at Jongin who was barely balancing on his leg.

“I need to be able to fight. I can’t be sidelined right now.” Jongin insisted.

“You’re a liability.” Jongdae shot back. “We can’t be watching your back.”

“So I have to stay here like some little kid?”

“Nini.” Sehun’s voice was colored with affection for the Jongin he’d practically grown up with, his stubborn partner in crime who refused to back down when he was injured. He wanted to dance when he couldn’t, wanted to sing when he couldn’t. “It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable. It’s that we’ve lost too much already. If we lost you during this…” He let the lump in his throat cut his voice off.

Jongin frowned, but he plunked himself back in his wheelchair. “I’m still going to drive. My right leg is fine, I can be the getaway driver.”

“Fine. If that will make you happy.” Kyungsoo stretched. “You want to keep going, Dae?”

“I think you’ve mopped the floor with my ass enough today.” Jongdae snorted. His lip was a little bloodied, the impact marks on his chest obvious.

“My turn, then?” Sehun stripped off his shirt, leaving on just his sweatpants.

“Oh no. Last time I fought you, you tried to gouge out one of my eyes. You and Dae can beat each other to a pulp.” Kyungsoo sat on the floor next to Jongin’s wheelchair, eyes expectantly bright.

“It’ll be a pleasure to beat that ass.” Jongdae gestured for Sehun to step onto the mats they’d spread out.

“Better call Yixing.” Jongin muttered, even as he had his phone in one hand to film it.

Sehun and Jongdae circled each other on the mat, sizing each other up, but they’d been sparring for so long they knew each move the other would make. But Sehun was different now. He remembered being Sehun the idol, remembered a fluidity that he hadn’t utilized outside of his (apparently lucrative) stripping career.

So when Jongdae swung, Sehun practically slithered out of the way instead of blocking and throwing a punch of his own. It caught Jongdae off guard, especially since he’d been expecting Sehun to counterbalance him, and Sehun got a clean shot at his ribs.

“Chanyeol been making you dance more often?” Jongdae’s smile looked more like a snarl. “Little stripper boy spread out for him?”

Sehun was used to the trash talk. He’d had to grow a pretty thick skin once more people had heard about his former occupation as an escort, and he’d had to get pretty good at fighting when they treated him like some whimpering princess dying to get on his knees. Jongdae’s words were just a regurgitation of those assholes, intending to mess with Sehun’s head and give him an opening to take him down.

They traded body blows for a minute before Jongdae slipped past Sehun’s block and punched him in the face. He stumbled back, his head ringing.

“Fuck, he had a head injury!” Kyungsoo made to get up and pull Sehun out. The younger man spat blood in Jongdae’s face and tackled him to the mat. They rolled around on the mat, struggling to maintain the upper hand and failing miserably. Sehun finally managed to flip Jongdae onto his stomach, planted his knee in the small of his back, and yanked one arm painfully behind him. Jongdae struggled for a moment before letting out a huff and tapping the mat twice with his free hand.

Sehun let him go and rolled off, trying to catch his breath. It was only when he stopped focusing so intently on the fight that he realized they had an audience. Baekhyun, Minseok, and Chanyeol had all crowded inside the practice room to watch them.

“I have to admit, the blood spray was a nice touch.” Baekhyun giggled and the chains jingled in time. “Might be a biohazard, though.”

“Yixing checks our blood too often.” Sehun reminded him.

“And this is why I won’t get in the ring with either of you. Either I’m getting blood spit in my eyes or someone’s trying to bite my ear off.” Minseok said.

“Min, that was one time. And I thought that would have counted as foreplay for you.” Jongdae grinned up at him.

“His boyfriends are a doctor and a fussbudget. I doubt they’re trying to bite each other’s ears off.” Kyungsoo added drily.

“Which is why I fight Kyungsoo or Chanyeol.” Minseok yanked his shirt over his head. “Want to go a round, Soo?”

Sehun let Jongdae help him off the mat, feeling the aches settling into his muscles. He needed a shower, and to suck on some ice to help numb the cut on the inside of his cheek.

“It shouldn’t be so hot to watch you and Jongdae beat the shit out of each other.” Chanyeol murmured in Sehun’s ear as they headed down the hallway to their room.

“You just have a violence kink, Yeol.” Sehun shrugged. “I’m more than happy to indulge it.”

That comment led to him getting fucked while still covered in sweat and blood. He didn’t mind that much, especially when Chanyeol followed him into the shower to help scrub it all off.

By morning, El Dorado had been burned to the ground. Sehun felt the sting of sentimentality; that had been where he’d gotten his start, where he’d met Jongin, where Chanyeol had eventually started coming to see him. Running it hadn’t made him particularly attached to it. Tao and Yifan did more of the day to day work, he was just the shadowy hand behind it all. If SM had been trying to hurt him, he would have to do a better job. The important part of El Dorado lived in his memories, and in his two friends that were safely out of reach.

Sehun spent the majority of the morning watching the news and cleaning guns. Chanyeol was beefing up their cybersecurity and had been locked in his office since he’d gotten up. Baekhyun and Minseok had taken Kyungsoo with them to meet with Taeyeon in Guri, while Jongdae took Renjun back to Taeyong and his gang. Yixing had given the boy a bunch of antibiotics and strict instructions on taking care of his wound, and threatened to shoot him in the other arm if he found out that the antibiotics had gotten sold on the street.

 He ached to be outside, to be doing something other than sitting around. He remembered what life had been like before this, working at El Dorado and coming home to Chanyeol. Their lives had been pretty easy and they’d lived well, enjoying all the pleasures that the underworld could offer them. The only mar on it had been SM. Sehun had never met him personally, but he had felt the blow of his iron hand. He had seen Junmyeon come home bloodied, barely conscious enough to stand. He’d seen the burn marks on Jongdae and Kyungsoo’s arms. He had seen the bloodied lips, bruised eyes, broken noses that he dealt out against the women in their organization. The worst had been the time Chanyeol’s system had failed. Sehun hadn’t slept for two days, waiting for news of where he could pick Chanyeol back. He hadn’t been physically injured, maybe a bruise or two. But his eyes told Sehun that he had endured a different kind of pain. The memory of Chanyeol’s face was enough to make him want SM’s head on a platter.

Sehun drifted back to his room, poking around to see what he and Chanyeol had in their temporary home. He hadn’t really looked at what Chanyeol had packed for them, other than the stack of underwear and t-shirts sitting in the duffel bag in the corner. He rifled through a few books, a couple of heavier jackets, and then found a black bag sitting at the bottom. The weight and shape of the objects inside tipped him off to what they were. Bag in hand, he slipped into Chanyeol’s office. He was clicking through different camera feeds, checking for anything unusual. Sehun walked up behind him and dropped the bag into his lap.

“I see you found my surprise.” Chanyeol said, tilting his head back for a kiss.

“I did. I wanted to let you pick which one I used.” Sehun purred.

“That’s cruel.”

“I thought you liked me vicious, Yeollie.” Sehun opened the bag. “What do you think? The purple, or the blue?”

“How about the black?” Chanyeol pulled the plug out of the bag.

“That’s no fun.”

“No, but it’ll hold you over until I can take a break here.” Chanyeol coaxed him into his lap, straddling him. Sehun fingered himself open lazily, then shifted to let Chanyeol slip the toy up into him. “Comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I can be with a boner and a plug in my ass.” Sehun settled into his lap, snuggling close. Chanyeol could still see over his shoulder, and one hand came down to rub at the small of his back gently.

It was soothing in a way it shouldn’t have been. Sehun found himself starting to drift off in a comfortable haze of arousal, the rhythmic clicking lulling him to sleep. Chanyeol tried to keep his chest as still as possible to let Sehun rest, but the beauty of his sleeping boyfriend’s face distracted him from his work.

Sehun had taken Chanyeol’s breath away the first time he saw him. Jongin had dragged him in with a stab wound to see Yixing. Even bloodied and haggard, he’d been one of the most gorgeous men Chanyeol had ever seen. It had been hard to stay away from him, to let Jongin and Kyungsoo take over his initiation into the group. But he’d been there the last time Sehun danced at El Dorado, after his wound had healed. He’d gone maskless for the first time in his dancing career, making every expression that much more intense. Every roll, every thrust, every grind made Chanyeol’s blood boil in his veins. He’d been so horny by the end of it he’d had to go jerk off in the bathroom like a creep.

And that first time they’d been sent out together, Sehun had been so coldly beautiful, like a marble statue. They’d barely managed to get out of the area without crashing the car because Chanyeol couldn’t keep his hands off Sehun. He loved him then, and he loved him now. Chanyeol let his hand still on Sehun’s back, fighting off the memories that threatened to crash over him like a wave. Sehun was too important to risk him.

“Yeol, can you look at—whoops, sorry.” Yixing backed out of the room as quickly as he’d come in, having spotted Sehun’s bare legs hanging off the chair.

“He’s asleep.” Chanyeol said, pulling the edge of Sehun’s hoodie over his bare ass. “What’s up?”

“Junmyeon called on his way back from Guri, Taeyeon wants you to do a system check, make sure that there aren’t any cameras in a particular address.”

“I don’t think I have anything in Guri on the system.” Chanyeol shifted Sehun in his lap, making a soft shushing noise when Sehun mumbled in his sleep. “Why would Taeyeon think there’s anything there?”

“Not sure. Could be paranoia, but she’s been with SM longer than we have.” Yixing stayed carefully on the other side of Chanyeol’s chair so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Sehun in a compromising position. Not that he hadn’t seen Sehun in all his glory before; Yixing was the group’s medic and general practitioner, and he gave them all their physicals every year.

“She’s been with SM too long.” Chanyeol muttered under his breath as he clicked through his systems.

“You think she’s loyal to him?”

“Not after what he did to Jessica, no. I don’t know. This whole thing has me on edge, too many working pieces out of my control. And you and I have too much to lose.”

Yixing’s breath caught in his throat. “Minseok tried to give me a cyanide pill. In case…in case something goes wrong. He thinks the old man would torture me harder than the others.”

“Because you’re Chinese?”

“That too, but mostly because I’m Junmyeon’s and Minseok’s. Junmyeon is the leader in this little rebellion and Minseok has always mouthed off the hardest at him.” Yixing reached over the top of the chair to pet Sehun’s hair back from his forehead. “I wish I felt this peaceful right now.”

“He needs the rest. His brain is still healing.” Chanyeol tightened his grip on Sehun and swiveled the chair a little towards Yixing. “There’s nothing on the system in Guri. Unless the old man managed to have someone put a camera in without my knowing it and put it on a completely different system, it’s all clear.”

“All right. I’ll call Junmyeon back and let him know. I think they’re going to be in Guri overnight, Taeyeon wants to have a strategy meeting.”

“Quiet night then. Is Jongdae going to be back tonight or do you think he’ll stay out?”

“You know how he gets around Taeyong’s boys. He can’t resist spinning tall tales for them and teaching them how to kill men with their thumbs. It’ll probably be just us, Baekhyun, and Jongin tonight.” Yixing gestured at Sehun. “I imagine you two will be busy.”

“I almost don’t want to wake him.” Chanyeol peered down at Sehun, still sleeping soundly.

“You two have something special. The kind of thing that I have with my boys.”

“He’s very special to me.” Chanyeol adjusted his grip on Sehun’s bottom, inadvertently driving the plug deeper into him. Sehun woke up with a yelp, gripping Chanyeol’s shoulders so hard it hurt.

“Time for me to go.” Yixing made a speedy exit while Sehun woke up fully and realized just what had woken him.

“That’s not very nice of you.” Sehun chided, shifting the plug back into a more comfortable position.

“Sorry darling, it was an accident.” Chanyeol kissed him gently. “Why don’t you go wait in our room? I’m going to make sure this is synched to my phone and then I’ll come join you.”

“Don’t take too long.” Sehun pulled on his boxers, leaving his jeans on the floor of the office, and headed for their room. The nap had been good for him, a break from all the stress around him. He stripped off his hoodie when he got back to their room, curling up on the mattress. The plug wasn’t uncomfortable, but it made everything ache.

True to his word, Chanyeol didn’t take long. He stripped off his clothes slowly for Sehun’s viewing pleasure, until Sehun had to yank him over to the bed by one long leg. He didn’t want to be EXO’s Sehun, he didn’t want to be SM’s Sehun, he wanted to be _Chanyeol’s_ Sehun. And so he let himself melt into the mattress under his boyfriend, looked him in the eye, and said, “make me yours”.

And he did. By the time Sehun came (the second time) he was a crying mess, digging his fingernails so hard into Chanyeol’s shoulders it had to hurt. Chanyeol shushed him and kissed away the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and mopped them both up with tissues. Sehun let himself be coddled and moved around like a doll.

“Are you hungry baby?” Chanyeol asked, finally collapsing onto the mattress next to him.

“Hungry for that _dick_.” Sehun didn’t even feel embarrassed about the terrible joke, although Chanyeol’s ears turned red.

“Well you need real food and some hydration so I don’t accidentally kill you. Come on, I think Yixing’s cooking.” Chanyeol got them both up and dressed, although Sehun refused to put on anything other than sweatpants.

“Do you have to come in here looking like that?” Jongin asked when they wandered into the eating area. He was balancing a bowl of food on the arm of his wheelchair, a beer between his knees, a pair of chopsticks, and his cell phone. Sehun almost wished he could take a picture.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sehun served himself a bowl of rice and the stirfry that Chanyeol had smelled, and snagged a beer for himself out of the fridge.

“You’re walking more bowlegged than Kyungsoo after that time we dared him to ride that mechanical bull at the karaoke place we used to go to.” Baekhyun said around a mouthful of food. “Also, we all heard you. This place echoes.”

“Sorry?” Chanyeol shrugged. “We usually have an apartment to ourselves.”

“Baekhyun’s just jealous because he can’t get his usual trade while we’re here.” Yixing smiled innocently when Baekhyun swung his head to glare at him. “Don’t move your head so fast, your chains will get all tangled again.”

“Speaking of heads, how’s yours, Hunnie?” Jongin asked.

“Haven’t heard any complaints yet.” Sehun muttered into his beer. Baekhyun threw a stirfried mushroom at his head.

“He meant your concussion, you freak.” Baekhyun huffed.

“Everything’s fine. My melon just got a little bruised, that’s all.” Sehun had nearly forgotten his other life, his past life. He’d slept enough here that he was sure he wasn’t in any danger of being sucked back to his own reality. He dimly wondered if the Sehun that had been here before was now learning choreographies and attending schedules. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it. He was freer than he’d ever been, and he had everything he wanted. He had Chanyeol’s heart, and he had his brothers by his side.

\--

Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, and Minseok came home early the next morning. Yixing stumbled into Sehun and Chanyeol’s room, duvet wrapped around himself like a cape.

“Myeon’s home.” He mumbled sleepily. “He wants everyone up.”

“Tell your boyfriend I’ll shoot him myself.” Sehun groaned, pulling the blankets over his head.

“Come on, Hunnie.” Yixing shook his shoulder violently. “Everyone needs to be up and I still have to go help Jongin get into the wheelchair.”

“Fucking fine.” Sehun dragged himself out of bed, pulling a bleary-eyed Chanyeol with him. They dressed robotically before stumbling out to their meeting room. Someone had graciously made a large pot of tea; Sehun started slurping it down before it was cool enough to drink, hoping the caffeine in it would jumpstart his brain.

The others didn’t look like spring daisies either. They had probably left Guri before the sun was even up, using the twilight blue of early morning for cover.

“Is Jongdae on his way?” Junmyeon asked Minseok, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“He’s bringing Taeyong and Ten with him. They should be here soon.” Minseok replied.

Slowly they filed in, taking their places around the table. Taeyong and Ten stood against the wall, eyes bright and wild. Sehun wondered if Jongin and Baekhyun had looked like that, back when they had been just street kids.

“Taeyeon, Joohyun, Qian, and I met in Guri last night. We called in to Jinki and Leeteuk where they’ve holed up. We’ve all come to a decision.” Junmyeon swallowed hard. “Tomorrow, we either win or we die.”

“And what about us?” Taeyong asked. “Aren’t we coming with you?”

“We need all of the help we can get.” Junmyeon leaned back in his chair. “But…”

“None of the younger ones. If they’re not old enough to drink they’re not old enough to die.” Minseok finished for him.

“Even if they don’t go with us, the old man won’t spare them. He’ll just hunt them down and put them in the gutter.” Taeyong shot back.

“At least they’ll have time to run! Jisung’s only fifteen, he’s not old enough for a firefight yet.” Minseok shook his head angrily. “Little lost boys. I won’t lead babies into this.”

“He’s right, Tae.” Ten said softly. “Better to give them a chance to run than get them killed.”

Taeyong raked one hand through his hair angrily. “Fine. Haechan and Renjun will look after them. But everyone older is going.”

“What do we do about Changmin and Yunho?” Jongin asked, pulling the conversation in a different direction. There was a heated debate over whether or not they could be trusted that was only ended by Junmyeon shouting at everyone to be quiet.

“We’ll decide if they’re a threat once we’re there. I doubt they want to see the old man live anymore than we do.” Junmyeon said. “We’re leaving from here tomorrow afternoon. Taeyong, you and your boys will be riding with us.”

“Understood.” Taeyong straightened up. “We need to get back, tell the others the plan and get everyone used to the idea of staying behind.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch later about exact times.” Junmyeon looked down the table. “Any other questions?” There was only silence. “Good. I don’t want anyone sparring and hurting themselves today. Rest or clean guns. We need to be ready for tomorrow.” With that, he swept out of the room, Minseok and Yixing at his sides.

“Suho can be _so_ dramatic.” Jongdae muttered. “Well, I was up all night with the kids, so I think I’ll catch a few hours of shut eye.”

Chanyeol went to his computers to keep an eye on things, so Sehun tried to go back to sleep, but the bed was too cold and empty and his mind was too full. So he padded down the hall to Jongin’s room and slipped inside. He knew his friend wouldn’t mind him getting into bed with him. They’d used to share more often before he’d started dating Chanyeol. Sehun wondered belatedly if Jongin had missed his company.

As he’d expected, Jongin rolled over sleepily and snuggled into Sehun’s side. It was comforting to lie next to Jongin’s broad shoulders, even if he wasn’t able to fall asleep. He mostly dozed, hovering somewhere between.

He could die tomorrow. Chanyeol could die, or one of the others. Or they could win their freedom, freedom for so many others. Sehun decided that was the better option to dwell on.

At a normal time, he helped Jongin back into his wheelchair to get him to the kitchen. They fixed themselves breakfast and then headed to their makeshift armory, where Baekhyun was already sitting. He was slow, methodical about cleaning the guns, and even fussier about the way that ammunition was packed. It made him a pain to work with, but he was always neatly prepared.

“Hey kiddos. Get any more sleep?” Baekhyun’s eyes were shadowed with deep purple circles.

“A little.” Sehun shrugged, taking the seat next to him. “You haven’t been back to bed.”

“Too much weighing on my mind. Needed to keep my hands busy.” Baekhyun’s chains didn’t sound as cheery as they usually did.

“We’re going to be fine.” Sehun assured him.

“If you really believe that we’ll come out unscathed, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.” Baekhyun’s words were harsh, but there wasn’t a real bite behind them.

“I refuse to believe anything else.” Sehun slid over a belt to Jongin. “Now let’s keep our hands busy and get ready.”

Chanyeol was equally uneasy, if not more. Sehun was in too much danger to let him face SM with the others. Even if the numbers would be smaller, he couldn’t risk him. He left his post at his computers and went to talk to Junmyeon, his heart heavy. There was no avoiding this, not if he wanted Sehun to live.

\--

“I can’t _believe_ you’re doing this to me! What am I supposed to do, just sit here and worry all night if you’re going to come back? What if you need me? How can I protect you if I’m _handcuffed to a wall_?” Sehun kicked out wildly at Baekhyun and Chanyeol, but it didn’t seem to affect them at all. They finished fastening him to the wall, tugging on the pipe to make sure it would hold. Sehun was sure he couldn’t pull it out anyway; his shoulder was still stiff and swollen and that was the side they’d cuffed him on.

“This is for your own good, baby.” Chanyeol’s voice was thick, like he was close to tears. “Please believe me that I’m doing this for you.”

“If any of you die because I’m not there, it’ll be on your head Chanyeol.”

“It’s already on my head, Hunnie.” Chanyeol knelt down and kissed his forehead. Sehun glared at him.

“Let me out of this.”

“I can’t. You’re safer here.” Chanyeol straightened up. “I love you, Sehun.” He was waiting for Sehun to say it back, obviously, but he was too angry to say it. Chanyeol’s shoulders rolled forward and he followed Baekhyun out of the room meekly.

They’d left him with some basic comforts, at least: a blanket, a bottle of water, his phone, some snacks. It would still be an agonizing wait alone in the warehouse. Even Jongin was going, if only as a driver. No one had handcuffed _him_ to a wall and he was in a fucking wheelchair. Sehun let out a scream of frustration and yanked on the handcuffs, only succeeding in aggravating his shoulder. How was he supposed to survive the wait?

It dimly occurred to him that they had left his phone with him, presumably so he could have something to do. Maybe he could call someone to let him out. But no, everyone who might have been able to uncuff him was off going to get themselves killed.

What did Chanyeol think he was doing? If anything, he’d damned Sehun to die. At least the kids had a chance to run if something went wrong. He was a sitting duck handcuffed to a fucking pipe. If they failed, SM’s men would just have to come inside the warehouse and shoot him.

An hour went by and Sehun’s anger faded into panic. What if that had been his last chance to tell Chanyeol he loved him? What if something happened to Junmyeon, or any of his friends for that matter? How could he live with himself if he could have prevented their deaths somehow?

Another hour went by in agony. He kept staring at his phone, hoping for any signal that everything was okay, that he hadn’t just seen his friends for the last time. But no sign came, of course. They were on a mission and no one would be taking the time to text him when their awareness could mean life or death.

Sehun kicked his legs out in front of him and felt something push against his calf. He pulled his leg up to his free hand to feel inside his boot. The wicked wink of steel gave him a glimmer of hope. Chanyeol had taken his gun, but not his throwing knives. He had to crawl to move along the pipe, stopping every now and then to slide the other cuff over some joint or rib in the pipe.

Finally he found where it went into the drywall. When he knocked on it with the hilt of his knife, the wall sounded hollow. It was an abandoned warehouse, after all. It hadn’t been well maintained. He could only hope it wasn’t a gas line and that he wasn’t about to give himself carbon monoxide poisoning. He couldn’t cut the pipe, but maybe if he could cut it loose from the wall, he could get the handcuff out from around it.

He set to chiseling at it with his knife. It was slow, clumsy work because of the way he’d been handcuffed and he had to use his non-dominant hand to dig into the drywall. He stopped a few times to readjust his grip or clear his nose and throat of the dust, but soon enough he had made a hole around the pipe. It was definitely looser now, not enough that he could yank it free. He stared at the pipe, frustration furrowing his eyebrows. There had to be a way out of this.

If he couldn’t use his hands, maybe he’d have to use his feet. The pipe ran along the wall around knee height, and considering he was handcuffed to it, it was hard to stand on top of it. As it was he would be lucky he didn’t fall off and give himself another head injury.

He bounced on the pipe experimentally, feeling it sway under him. Maybe a few good jumps would free him. He muttered a quick prayer to whoever might be listening, and then slammed his foot down on the pipe. He went ass over teakettle onto the floor and it took a few moments for him to realize he’d freed himself from the pipe. Nothing was coming out of the pipe, which was a good sign. He grabbed his phone and knife and ran for Chanyeol’s set up. He’d seen Chanyeol use it enough that he knew the basics, but not enough to quickly find what he was looking for.

SM only had a few cameras on his property, mostly on the outside for surveillance. Sehun nearly kicked the computer in frustration as he had to click through a million different camera feeds to find the right ones.

All he could see on the feeds were bodies in black armor. None of them looked like his friends, thankfully, but that didn’t tell him much of anything. He took a quick detour at the armory to pick up a gun and some extra clips. They’d been gone two hours, but that didn’t mean the fighting was over. Sehun was about to climb into the last car left in the loading bay when he heard the metal door going up. He ducked down below the SUV, gun drawn, even as he prayed that his friends were coming back.

A black SUV screeched into the loading bay, Yixing jumping out before the car had even slowed down. He was covered in blood, his shirt sticking to him wetly. The second SUV came in at a much slower pace, but Sehun barely even noticed. All he could see was Kyungsoo and Jongdae supporting Chanyeol between them, the way blood was dripping onto the concrete floor.

“We need to get him into surgery, now! Where’s Yuta?” Yixing swung his head around and made eye contact with Sehun.

“I’m here.” Yuta pushed his overgrown brown hair out of his eyes and spotted Sehun as well. “I’ll start prepping him.” He disappeared after Kyungsoo and Jongdae, following them down the hall to the medical room.

“Sehun.” Yixing’s voice was gentle, as gentle as his hands on Sehun’s trembling shoulders. “He’s badly hurt but I’m not going to let anything happen to him. He’ll be fine, I promise you that.” Sehun nodded dumbly. “Now I’m going to go take care of him. Baekhyun will stay with you.”

Sehun swayed as soon as Yixing let go of him and he slid down the side of the car. Baekhyun bent over, making a noise of pain as he did.

“Come on kid, we need your help.” Baekhyun helped haul him to his feet, pulling him into the meeting room with everyone else. Junmyeon was spread out on the table, biting down on a belt while Minseok dug a bullet out of his shoulder. Taeyong was waiting with what looked like some of Yixing’s surgical supplies, probably ready to stitch the wound. All around him, his friends were patching each other up. Sehun turned almost robotically, ready to go find Chanyeol, but Baekhyun pulled him back.

“I can’t let you go back there.” Baekhyun’s eyes were rimmed red, like he’d been crying. “We need your help with treating everyone else so Yixing can focus on Chanyeol. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Sehun wasn’t much help when it came to delicate things, so he kept the whiskey flowing for painkillers and helped hold down more difficult patients. Kyungsoo had been stabbed three times in the arm and was violently afraid of needles, so it took Sehun and Baekhyun to get him to hold still long enough for the stitches. Minseok finally collapsed from the strain on his nerves of digging the bullet out of Junmyeon and ended up slumped against the wall with a jacket draped over him.

When there were no more people to help, nothing left to distract him, Sehun again went to leave the room. Baekhyun caught him and dragged him over to the kitchen. This time Sehun had a healthy amount of liquor forced down his throat. Baekhyun made him sit with the bottle while he cleaned the last of the blood off his face and hands.

“What happened?” Sehun asked when he came back.

“We won.” Baekhyun didn’t sound too happy about it. “The old man is dead. Joohyun got the first shot at him and she took it.”

“How many others?”

“Things are touch and go for Minho right now. Jinki is taking him to an actual hospital because Yixing couldn’t operate on him, the bullet is too close to his spine. Heechul’s leg is probably broken, and Taeyeon has a lot of shrapnel embedded in her side from one of Seulgi’s bombs. Everyone else is minor injuries, stab wounds, single gun shots.”

“Chanyeol wasn’t.”

“No.”

“Why did you _leave_ me here? I could have protected him!”

“He was more worried about protecting you, Hunnie.” Baekhyun’s eyes were sad. “Do you remember the one time Chanyeol ever slipped up?”

“Yes.”

“SM didn’t rough him up. He didn’t have to. All he had to do was describe in painful detail what he would do to you if Chanyeol ever messed up again.” Baekhyun’s chains jangled as he shook his head. “I don’t even know what it was he said, but it was bad enough to fuck Chanyeol up. He didn’t want to risk something going wrong tonight and having you close enough for SM to hurt you.”

“And instead he got hurt.”

“He would prefer it that way, I think.” Baekhyun cuddled him close, forgetting that he was still drenched in blood. “He’s going to be fine. Yixing won’t let him go.”

Everyone took turns sitting vigil with Sehun that night outside the room where Yixing was operating. He finally fell asleep on Junmyeon’s unbandaged shoulder, sleeping fitfully until he heard a door bang open. But it was just Jongin in his wheelchair, not Yixing with news. Sehun would have settled for any news by that point. The love of his life was on the other side of that door, hovering between life and death. It was almost worse to know why he had been left behind. He’d cursed Chanyeol for leaving him and because Chanyeol had been protecting him, he’d gotten injured himself. Sehun played over the night in his head, from the fragments of what he’d heard from Junmyeon and Baekhyun. He would have been right at Chanyeol’s side. He could have protected him, watched his back, kept him from having most of a clip emptied into his stomach.

It was after dawn when Yixing and Yuta finally stumbled out of the room, stained with blood and looking exhausted. Junmyeon got up clumsily and draped the blanket he’d been using over his partner.

“How is he?” He asked softly, arranging the blanket. Sehun was still asleep against the wall.

“He’s out of danger. It’ll be a long recovery time, but he’s going to live.”

“Thank God.” Junmyeon sighed. “Can I take Hunnie in to see him?”

“He’s unconscious, but Sehun can see for himself that he’s all right, I guess.” Yixing shrugged. “We need to put Yuta in a bed. Kid’s exhausted.”

“I can hear you.” Yuta grumbled, adding what was probably a curse in Japanese.

“He can double up with Jongin, he won’t mind. Can you get him over there?”

“Xing?” Sehun sat upright quickly. “Is he okay?”

“You take care of our boy. I’ll see to this one.” Yixing got up slowly, pulling Yuta with him. They shuffled down the hall while Junmyeon took Sehun into the room.

They’d put Chanyeol in a cot and dressed him in some ratty old shirt that Sehun dimly recognized as Minseok’s. He was still under the anesthetic, sleeping peacefully. Sehun touched his hand, checked his pulse, watched his chest move up and down. _He’s alive. He’s okay_.

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s been a rough night.” Sehun said to Junmyeon when he was done.

“It has been.” Junmyeon hesitated. “Sehun, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I—you’ve had enough shock for one day.”

“No, you have to tell me now Suho.” Sehun glared at him. “You let Chanyeol handcuff me to a pipe. You owe me.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know he’d left you until it was too late.” Junmyeon raked one hand through his hair. “Luhan’s alive.”

\--

“How are you feeling?” Sehun asked, stirring his ramen idly.

“I mean, it hurts, but I’m alive. That’s the important part.” Chanyeol tipped his bowl towards him to drink some of the broth. “And you’re okay.”

“If you ever traumatize me like that again I swear I will kick your ass.” Sehun gestured at him threateningly with his chopstick. “As it is I should put you in the grave.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going to do to me, then.” A voice said from the doorway. Sehun hadn’t heard that voice in ages. He set the bowl down on Chanyeol’s tray before he turned to look.

Luhan was a little thinner, a little more tired looking than Sehun remembered, and there was a scar splitting his lower lip. But he was _there_ , arms sort of spread like he was waiting for a hug. Sehun launched himself into his arms, knocking him back against the wall.

“You fucking shithead.” Sehun said between sobs. “Why did you let us all think you were dead?”

“I’m sorry.” Luhan murmured, petting his hair gently. “I’m sorry I hurt all of you.”

Slowly the story started to come out by Chanyeol’s bedside. SM had put a hit on Luhan; the assassin, thankfully, had been a friend of Luhan’s from his Beijing days. Luhan had faked his death and disappeared into the crowds in Beijing, where he’d been laying low. He’d heard through the grapevine that things were going down and had flown back as fast as he’d been able to, reappearing just in time to help with the fight.

“We’re all alive, and we’re all free.” Luhan said, squeezing Sehun’s hand. “We’re going to be a family again, the way we were supposed to be.”

“Yixing hasn’t tried to skin you yet?” Sehun asked.

“Not yet. I think he’s just too happy to see me in one piece. Although he did tell me whoever stitched up my lip did a piss poor job of it.” Luhan sighed dramatically. “My poor pretty face, all mangled because Yixing wasn’t there to fix it for me.”

“I’m sure you’re devastated about it.” Chanyeol snorted, then groaned. “Fuck, this hurts.”

“Well you better get well soon because you owe me that anniversary trip to Macao.” Sehun reminded him. For the first time in a long time, he felt light. His boyfriend was alive, his best friend had come back to him, and they were free. There would be no more tyrannical reign over them, no iron fist to crush them. The world was theirs.


End file.
